say. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. All your talk about reinventing your career…Was it bullshit?”
“Not at the time, but-”
“Damn it, I’m calling your father!” He loomed at her side. “You’re a pro. You don’t throw away the opportunity of a lifetime over something this stupid.”
“You do when the opportunity of a lifetime could possibly screw you up for years.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I can’t risk working with you every day, not the way I’m feeling right now.”
He dug in then. He paced the patio, delivering one argument after another. As he moved in and out of the shade, she saw him as he was, a creature of light and shadow, revealing only as much as he wanted. When he paused for breath, she shook her head. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’m not changing my mind.”
He finally understood she meant it. She watched him retreat into himself, like a sea creature disappearing into a chambered shell. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Cold. Withdrawn. “At least Jade will be happy.”
“Jade?”
“She’s wanted that part ever since the reading at the house. Haven’t you figured that out yet? We were ready to make her an offer when I saw your tape.”
“You can’t give Jade that part!”
“It’s going to stir up a hornets’ nest all right,” he said without a flicker of emotion. “But that means publicity for the picture, and I’m not going to turn down free press.”
A roar echoed through her head. She couldn’t move, could barely speak. “I think you’d better go now.”
“Good idea.” He pulled the sunglasses from his shirt pocket with cold, businesslike detachment. “It’s Tuesday. You have until the end of the week to change your mind or Jade gets the part. Think about that when you’re lying in bed tonight.” He slipped the sunglasses back on. “And while you’re at it, think about whether you really want to fall in love with a guy who’s getting ready to feed you to the wolves.”
Two days after Bram got back from Mexico, he returned home from the studio to find Rory Keene standing barefoot in his kitchen, squeezing pink icing blobs onto waxed paper under the supervision of a scowling Chaz. He’d barely slept since he’d returned. He had a sore throat, a nagging headache, and a perpetual upset stomach. All he wanted to do was bury himself in work.
“They’re supposed to be roses,” Chaz complained. “Did you pay attention to anything I told you?”
He winced as Rory slapped down the icing tube. “If you’d go a little slower when you demonstrate, I might be able to do it right.”
When would Chaz figure out she was supposed to suck up to important people? He made himself care. “You’ll have to excuse my housekeeper. She was raised by wolves.” He dragged himself closer to study the pink blobs. “Looks delicious.”
Rory and Chaz both practically sneered at him. “That’s not the point. They’re ornamental,” Rory said, as if he should have known. “I’ve always wanted to learn cake decorating, and Chaz is teaching me the basics.”
“A special-ed class,” Chaz muttered.
“I’m an executive,” Rory retorted, “not a pastry chef.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Beat it, Chaz.” Being with Rory always put him on edge, and he didn’t trust himself to deal with both of them now.
“We’re right in the middle of-”
“Go!” He nudged her out the door.
Rory picked up the icing tube and pressed the tip to the waxed paper. They hadn’t spoken since their initial meeting in her lavish suite of offices on the Vortex lot, but the icy blonde in the gray silk suit sitting at a burled wooden desk beneath an enormous Richard Diebenkorn abstract painting didn’t bear much resemblance to this woman in blue jeans with bare feet, a ponytail, and pink smudges on her fingers. He rubbed his back and headed for the refrigerator. “Sorry about Chaz. You basically have to ignore her.”
Rory concentrated on squeezing out a C-shaped squiggle. “What’s going on with Georgie?”
“Georgie? Nothing.” He took his time reaching for the iced tea pitcher.
She deposited another squiggle next to the first one. “I hear from Chaz she’s disappeared.”
“Chaz only thinks she knows everything.” He wished he still smoked. It was easier to look cool with a cigarette than a tumbler of iced tea. “We’ve decided to spend the summer at Trev’s beach house. His new one. He sold his old house last month. It’ll be weekends only for me while I’m working, but she’s there now.” At least she was according to Aaron’s latest insider tip to the entertainment press, which had also included a description of Bram and Georgie’s nonexistent reunion, along with a mention of their plans to spend romantic summer weekends at the beach house. Aaron was getting good at lying.
Rory jabbed the icing tip toward her misshapen blob. “Damn it. This is a lot harder than it seems.” She finally looked up. “You can either tell me the rest now or we can talk in my office, along with Lou Jansen and Jane Clemati from Siracca.”
A meeting he wanted to avoid at all costs. “About?”
She focused on creating a new set of rose petals. She wasn’t going anywhere, and he finally gave in. “You must have heard about the audition tape.”
“I’ve seen it. She’s brilliant, and you need her.”
He went for Johnny Depp cool, but the best he could do without a cigarette was to lean against the counter with his iced tea glass and cross his ankles. “My wife has a mild case of cold feet, that’s all. I’m dealing with it.”
“And what brought on this sudden case of cold feet?”
The head of Vortex shouldn’t be involved with casting decisions on a small-time Siracca film, and he was more than a little sick of Rory’s self-appointed role as Georgie’s protector. “Georgie’s been through a lot these last few years. She doesn’t feel like taking any more risks right now.” He fought to control his temper. “I intend to change her mind, and I’d appreciate it if everybody would get off my back while I do that.”
“Really?” The lift of her eyebrow showed she didn’t believe a word. “Here’s what I think happened. I think you screwed up. Again.”
Depp wouldn’t flinch, and neither did he. “I didn’t.”
“According to everyone I’ve talked to, including Chaz, Georgie wanted to do this picture right up to the day before the audition.” She tossed down the icing bag. “Georgie’s a pro, and I’ve never heard of her getting cold feet. That leads me to believe she bowed out because, for some reason, she doesn’t want to work with you.”
He unclenched his jaw muscles. “You’re the one who doesn’t like working with me, not Georgie.”
“I went to bat for you, Bram. Not just because I love the script, and not just because you gave a great reading. I went to bat for you because Georgie believes in you. Or at least she used to.” She snatched the dish towel from the countertop and wiped her hands. “Don’t kid yourself. A lot of people expect you to screw up, and this is exactly the scenario they’ve been waiting for. If you don’t want to end your career hosting game shows, I strongly suggest you sort out your problems with your wife and get her in front of the cameras where she belongs.”
“Is that all?”
“Tell Chaz I’ll be expecting another lesson soon.”
She strode past him out the back door.
Bram shut his eyes and cupped the cold glass in his palms. Rory’s unwelcome visit fed the guilt he’d been living with every day, even though the lie he’d told Georgie had been for her own good. Because of her, his dream was going to come true, and as soon as she worked through this drama she’d created, she’d be grateful he hadn’t let her throw away her own golden opportunity.
But a lie was a lie, and he couldn’t back away from his dishonesty regardless of how much he wanted to.
The next morning, he pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and headed for Malibu. This time, only two black SUVs followed. Despite a stormy forecast, the Friday-morning traffic was brutal, so he had more time than he wanted to think. As he pulled up at Trev’s house, he waved at the paps before they peeled off to search for parking, something they’d have a hard time finding today.
Georgie didn’t answer the door, so he used the key Trev had given him. The house was quiet, but the open doors to the deck revealed an abandoned yoga mat. Trev lived on one of Malibu’s most exclusive beaches, but today the impending storm had thinned out the sun worshippers. He got rid of his shoes and walked out onto the sand. The star of a TV cop drama lounged next to his third wife while his kids dug a ditch. A container ship chugged
